


More Than Life

by Nandireya



Category: Voltron Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Gen, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 14:42:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12014925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nandireya/pseuds/Nandireya
Summary: Loosely based on 80s fantasy flick Ladyhawke and prompts fromthis list...Three young villagers get unwillingly drawn into a tale of magic, curses and tragic love when the follow a mysterious black knight and the beautiful bird always at his side.





	1. The Beginning

"Easy does it..."

Lance steadied his breathing as he lined up the shot. He'd been stalking the doe for the better part of the morning. She was an elusive one, but he had her now. His family would eat tonight.

Her ears pricked and she looked up nervously. She'd heard something, but what?

"Crap!" He muttered. She was going to bolt, startled by something beyond his control. He loosed the arrow, cursing again as it struck the tree directly behind where her head had been as she disappeared into the green.

Then he heard it, felt it. The thundering of numerous hooves. It could be bandits, or worse. And they were heading straight for Garsiwn!

He broke into a sprint, moving nimbly through the trees. The rumbling was louder now, he could see the riders, flashes of colour and movement. Dark horses, silver armour, black banners with a purple sigil.

Galra!

"Shit!" He spat, coaxing all the speed he could out of his gangly legs.

 

~~~~~~

 

Unseen by both the young hunter and the raiding Galra, a lone figure in jet black armour watched silently. His own mount pawed at the ground, eager to be off. A beautiful bird, her silvery plumage in stark contrast to his ebony attire, was perched on his raised left arm. She chattered at him in an almost scolding manner.

He smiled warmly, sighing at her chiding tone.

"You think we should help, huh?"

The bird just fixed him bright blue glare.

"Like I wasn't going to." He snorted. He flicked his wrist and she took gracefully to the air. He nudged his horse gently, all he needed for the chestnut stallion to take off at an almost instant gallop.

 

~~~~~~

 

Lance skidded to a halt as he reached the village, looking left and right, trying to determine where he should start. It was already bedlam. People were screaming and running about, scoping up children, barricading themselves in their homes and extinguishing the fires the raiding party had started.

Hunk ran past him, swinging his smithy's hammer. Lance shot off after him, pulling an arrow from his quiver.

"Where have you been?" The big man demanded as he caught up. "Wooing the miller's twins again?"

"I was trying to get us some dinner." He shot back. "What the hell do they want? We've already payed our tribute this month!"

"They're Galra." Hunk snorted. "Do they really need a reason?"

A small figure stepped out into the road before them, causing them both to come to a screeching halt, sending gravel flying.

"What the hell do you two think you're doing!?" Pidge demanded. "Fighting them is just gonna make things worse! Let Iverson handled it."

"Iverson couldn't handle a drinking contest during happy hour at the tavern." Lance snorted.

" _DUCK_!" Hunk suddenly shouted, pushing them both to the ground as a red blur passed over them.

The trio stared, wide-eyed at the chestnut horse and its rider galloped past them towards the village square.

"Who the hell is that?" Lance demanded as he scrambled to his feet.

"I know that armour." Hunk gaped. "He's a Blade of Mamora."

" _THE_ Blade of Mamora?" Lance questioned. "The best of the best of the best? _THAT_ Blade of Mamora?"

"Didn't the Galra wipe them out?" Pidge frowned.

"Obviously nobody told him." Hunk shrugged.

"Come on!" Lance was already following. "We have _GOT_ to see this."

 

~~~~~~

 

Iverson stared down the leader of the Galra raiding party as best he could, given that he only had one eye. He had lost it battling the Galra when they had expanded their kingdom into their lands. The fight had been pretty one-sided. The Galra were warriors, trained from birth, there was little farmers and villagers armed with pitchforks and hammers could do against them. They had been allowed to live provided they paid the proper tribute to their king. For Garsiwn it was a quarter share of everything produced by the village and the surrounding farmlands.

The Galra in charge was an unsavoury fellow with a long thin face and perpetually arched eyebrows that gave him a rather devilish expression. He strode about like he owned the place even as he looked on the collection of roughly constructed dwellings and businesses with complete and utter disgust.

"What do you want?" Iverson asked flatly. "We've already provided tribute."

"Tax increase." A sleazy smile split his slimy face. He turned his head to his underlings. "Take it all." He ordered.

"What!?" Iverson's single eye widened.

"Our seers tell us that a time of turmoil is quickly approaching. We need our warriors strong and well fed."

"But...my people...they'll starve." Iverson protested.

"Your king thanks you for your sacrifice." The Galra bowed his head, grin firmly in place.

"You can't do this!" Iverson growled, taking a threatening step forward.

The Galra's eyes narrowed. "Burn the place to the ground when you're done." He ordered. He couldn't have this filth thinking he could deny the Galra.

"Haxus!"

The Galra's eyes widened. "It can't be." He whispered. He turned towards the voice that had spoken his name with such venom.

The speaker was little more than a child. He might have seen twenty seasons, he certainly hadn't seen more than twenty five. Scruffy, long dark hair fell into his dark violet eyes, eyes that belied his youth. They had seen far more than someone of his age should have. The armour that marked his kinship to an extinct order would explain that. The form-fitting matte black with its bluish-purple markings was almost the complete opposite of his own bulky pale grey accented with emblems closer to the pink end of the purple spectrum. It was hard to believe they had both once served the same empire.

"Aren't you supposed to be dead?" Haxus mocked, his smirk returning. He knew of the boy's reputation, but he was only one to his four. "Perhaps I should remedy that."

"Better than you have tried." The youth said flatly.

Haxus' smile disappeared and his eyes narrowed with his ire. With a curt nod his men charged at the black-clad warrior without question.

 

~~~~~~

 

"Now we're gonna see something awesome!" Lance grinned, almost vibrating in his excitement from their hiding spot. Truth be told, he'd always wanted to be a knight. And not just for the way it impressed the ladies. There was the gallantry, the skills, the sense of camaraderie, the sharp pointy things!

The Marmorite...that was what Lance decided to call him...stood his ground, looking quite calm as the trio of heavily armed and armoured Galra charged at him, screaming incomprehensible battle cries. With a casual grace he reached up to draw the sword that was sheathed across his back.

He met blade with blade, defecting the strike and swinging around to meet the back of the neck of the first attacker to reach him with the flat of his weapon, knocking him senseless but causing no lasting harm. He turned to meet the remains two as paired blades came at him. He easily dodged one, sending its owner flying with a savage kick to the midsection while parrying the second.

Two swords clashed for a moment. The Galra was good, but it was clear he was out-matched. The Blades were legendary, he wouldn't be able to stand against him for long. The second warrior had regained his breath and was reaching for his sword. Unfortunately for him he had landed close to the hidden trio. Hunk's grip on his hammer suddenly slipped.

"Oops." He breathed quietly as it met the Galra's helmet with a resounding metallic clang. The man went down again. Lance grinned at his friend while his fingers crept towards the fallen man's weapon.

The Mamorite began hammering his opponent with blow after blow. His lighter armour allowed him greater freedom of movement. He began to circle the Galra, still slashing at him, tiring him. The weight of his sword, his armour, the Mamorite was using it against him. When he began to stumble, the Mamorite shifted the grip on his blade, bringing the hilt down heavily on his opponent's skull, taking him out of the fight.

Even as he fell, the Mamorite stepped over him, stalking towards Haxus. He afforded a quick glance towards the trio, granted them a curt nod in thanks for their assistance. Hunk hugged his hammer to his chest while Lance saluted him with his purloined blade. Pidge just boggled at him.

The Mamorite reached behind his back and pulled out a small dagger. The sight of it caused Haxus to take a step back in obvious fear. The Mamorite flicked his wrist and the dagger shimmered with an unearthly light. It somehow seemed to unfold, lengthening from knife to sword.

Lance let out a long, excited "Oooooooohhhhhhh!!!!!" He had so hoped to see it.

An actual Blade of Mamora. The namesake weapon from which the entire order took their name. Supposedly imbued with magic, a magic only the order could tap into, deadly in their hands. The metal was dark, like his armour. A bright blue-purple mark, the sigil of his brotherhood, glowed brightly in its hilt.

"You shouldn't have come back, boy." Haxus snarled, his eyes never leaving the dark blade. He was trying to keep up a brave face but it was obvious that he was shaken. In the brief time it had taken for the youth to dispatch his underlings he had moved to his horse. As the boy advanced on him, he quickly clambered up into the saddle. He dug in his heels savagely and the horse took off. He thundered out of the village, leaving his underlings behind.

"What the hell have you done?!" Iverson demanded.

"He just saved our lives!" Lance countered, stepping out from where he'd been hiding, Hunk and Pidge trailing him.

"He's brought the wrath of the Galra down on us!" Iverson turned on them. "Do you think there won't be consequences for this?"

"You'd rather he just let them take all our food, our supplies and level the town?" Lance shot back.

"I'd rather he mind his own damn business!" Iverson snarled.

"The Galra are my business."

The two turned to the object of their discussion, and Lance was forced to do a double-take. While watching him fight he'd only paid attention to _WHAT_ he was. Now he could see _WHO_ he was. The Galra, Haxus, he'd called him, hadn't been exaggerating when he'd called him a boy. He was young, probably of similar age to Lance. And yet he was a highly skilled warrior. A knight. One of the legendary Blade of Mamora.

"Unless you stole that armour...and going by the way you fight...and _THAT_..." He pointed at the Blade. "...I seriously doubt that...you _ARE_ Galra!" Iverson snapped.

"Not like them." He shook his head. With another flick of his wrist he deactivated the Blade, returning it to the sheath on his back, his head low. There had been honour in the Galra once. Before Zarkon and his lust for power.

"Who are you?" Pidge asked softly.

"Nothing but a memory." He responded in a whisper.

"He's a menace!" Iverson snarled. "I've got half a mind a-"

His comment was drowned out by a high-pitched avian screech. A silvery raptor of some kind dived him, racking his hair with its talons as it arced upwards again. The Mamorite absently raised his left arm without even raising his head and the beautiful bird alighted gracefully on his gloved wrist.

"What kind of bird is that?" Hunk asked. He'd never seen one so delicate, so magnificent, so white.

"She's one of a kind." The Mamorite informed him.

"She's beautiful." Pidge smiled, reaching out a curled finger to stroke her pale plumage.

"Yes." He smiled sadly in agreement. "She is."

"You don't belong here!" Iverson snapped, touching his head, searching for any damage that might have been done. "Take your fancy sword and your bloody bird and get the hell out of my village!"

He turned towards the three friends. "You three!" He snapped. "Get this lot seen to while I see if I can clean up this bloody mess!"

 

~~~~~~

 

Haxus thundered into the castle's atrium, his mount's sides slick with sweat, foam on its lips. He has ridden hard, non-stop to get back. He slid off the animal, flinging the reins at a waiting groom, ignoring his aghast expression at the state of the horse. He just kept walking, pushing through the doors and into the castle proper.

He wasn't sure what he was going to stay. He hoped he wasn't about to end up in a 'shoot the messenger' kind of situation. The prince wasn't known for his leniency. But not informing him immediately would likely also result in the sharp end of a sword bringing angrily inserted in some part of his body.

"Where's the prince!?" He barked at some nobody with a tray of fresh fruit.

"The gardens, sir."

He stormed past without so much as an acknowledgement. He didn't slow until he reached the ornate filigree gates that led to the island of colour amid the castle's drab grey stone. He adjusted his grubby armour as best he could before entering.

Prince Lotor was reclining in the shade surrounded by curtains, cushions and concubines. The picture of opulent extravagance. All he needed was someone to feed him a peeled grape or something.

_'There you go.'_ He thought as one of his ladies popped a delicacy into his mouth. He sat up slightly as he saw Haxus approach, one pale eyebrow quirked on his perfect face, a slight disgusted curl to his perfect mouth.

Sendak stepped forward to block him.

"You would come before your prince in such an unseemly manner?" He snarled.

"You think I would do so if it wasn't important?" He countered.

Sendak considered him for a moment.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" The prince enquired in a slightly bored voice, leaning a little to his left to see around the hulking form of his Captain of the Guard.

Haxus stepped around Sendak and dropped to blended knee before his prince. He took a deep breath before responding.

"The half-breed traitor has returned." He reported, feeling it safer to not refer to him by name.

" _WHAT_?!"

That got his attention. The ladies scattered as he surged to his feet to storm up to the bowed soldier.

" _WHERE_?!"

"The village of Garsiwn-" He began, but was cut off by Sendak.

"They were harbouring him?" He turned to the prince. "I will take my best men. Raze it to the ground."

"He would never allow others to endanger themselves on his behalf." Lotor waved him off. "He's far too noble." He sneered the last word before turning back to Haxus.

"And the bird?" He asked.

"Your Highness?" Haxus frowned, confused.

"There must have been a bird." The prince insisted. "A beautiful, spirited bird, cast in silver, bright as the moon."

"Not that I saw, Your Highness."

"Alert your troops, Sendak." He ordered. "The bird is not to be harmed under pain if death." The two warriors exchanged a confused glance. What the hell did he want with a bird?

"As for the half-breed...hurt him all you like. But I want him brought to me alive. The pleasure of killing him is mine and mine alone."

 

~~~~~~

 

He let the chestnut stallion set his own pace, he was in no hurry to get to where he was going. He had little doubt that his quarry would come to him, or send his underlings at the very least. That didn't stop him from keeping away from higher traffic areas, though. He preferred the quiet solitude of the woods. He was almost dozing in the saddle, but he was still fully aware of his surroundings.

Finally he stopped, wheeled the horse around and sighed.

"You can stop following me now."

Three heads peered out from behind the trees, the rest of the trio following as they stepped into the overgrown path.

"We're not following you." Lance protested. "We're following Pidge." He gestured to the smallest of the group. "Pidge was following you."

He looked down with an unreadable expression at the young woman incongruously dressed as a boy. It was certainly safer for a woman travelling alone to dress in such a manner, but she wasn't alone. His eyes flicked from one of her companions to the other. They weren't trained warriors, but they both looked capable of looking after themselves. The girl, Pidge, he guessed it was a nickname of some sort, didn't look helpless herself. And he knew all about women capable of taking care of themselves.

"Why?" He asked finally.

"You said the Galra were your business." She said. "I have business with them too."

He arced a brow, obviously waiting for more.

"They took my family." She blurted.

His face softened. "I'm sorry." He empathised. "But I don't see how I can help you with that."

"Let us come with you." She implored. "You can't take on the Galra alone."

He looked from one to the other to the other. They obviously weren't warriors. They were peasants. They might have heart, but they were untrained, unprepared, unaware of what it was they were wanting to walk into.

"Yes." He said evenly. "I have no doubt that three farmers will turn the tide in my favour."

"I'm a huntsman, thank you very much!" Lance bristled. "Does this look like a hoe to you?" He brandished his bow.

"Blacksmith." Hunk returned his even tone, letting the hammer he had slung over his shoulder thump loudly to the ground.

"Saddler." Pidge folded her arms. "And inventor."

"Inspired tinkerer is more the like." Hunk added quietly.

They were determined, he'd grant them that. But they were also naive. He could easily outrun them, all he had to do was give Palgan his head. There wasn't a steed alive could catch him. But he feared they would continue their quest with or without him. If he kept them close he could offer them his protection.

He looked at the bird, perched on the pommel of his saddle. She paused in her preening as he held out a curled finger to her. She cocked her head to one side before nibbled on it playfully.

"You have no idea what you're asking." He said softly, whether to some unheard query from the creature that only he could hear or to them, none were certain, until he turned to consider the trio.

"But I suppose there is little we won't risk for those we love."

Pidge smiled. He probably understood her better than most. The Blade of Mamora had been a tight-knit order. Though not kin by blood, they considered each and every Blade their brother. And he had lost them all to the whim of the Galra.

"So..." Lance leaned against the horse's rump. The chestnut stallion flicked his tail in his face, Lance would swear it was deliberate. He had to spit hair out of his mouth as he moved away from the horse before continuing. "If we're gonna be travelling together, I'd say introductions are in order. He touched his hand to his chest. "I'm Lance."

"Hunk." The big man held up a hand.

"Pidge." So, she was sticking with that.

"And you are...?" Lance prompted when the Mamorite remained silent.

"Keith."

"Keith?" Lance repeated, a little incredulously. "Your name is Keith?"

"Do you have a problem with my name?" He asked dangerously.

"No." Lance admitted, holding his hands up in a placating manner. "I just expected something more...I dunno...fearsome? Inspiring? Warriorish?" He shrugged. "Keith is just...kinda...soft."

"Dressed like that I don't think anyone's gonna be worried about his name being soft, Lance." Pidge pointed out.

"True enough." Lance conceded. "So what's our first step in taking the Galra down? You must have a plan."

"I'm not planning on taking down the Galra." Keith said softly. "Only one of them. Lotor."

"The prince?" Hunk boggled.

"Why him?" Pidge wondered.

"Because he's an asshole."

"Granted." Lance nodded in agreement. "But he's also one of the most heavily guarded people in the empire. You are not gonna get anywhere near-" He paused when he noticed the look he was getting from the Mamorite. "Okay...you probably could." He conceded. "But going after the prince...that's a teeny bit suicidal."

"Why go after him?" Pidge asked.

"I have my reasons." Keith said, absently stroking the bird's soft feathers.

He turned the horse and continued along the trail. They had to jog briefly to catch up.

"So...do we get to take turns on the horse?" Lance asked.

The horse stopped in mid-stride, turning his head back to consider him with large, dark eyes before snorting in his face.

"I think that's a no." Hunk sighed.


	2. Are You Afraid Of The Dark

Lance tried to get Keith to talk because it was something Lance was very good at. He tried to get him to talk about himself, about his life, about the Blades of Mamora. He tried to get him to give him some pointers about sword play, brandishing the weapon he'd appropriated during the battle at Garsiwn. He talked because, Pidge suspected, he just liked to hear the sound of his own voice. But it seemed talking wasn't something Keith was very good at at all.

Of course he'd only agreed to their accompanying him reluctantly so Pidge wasn't really surprised that he didn't want to build any real kind of rapport with them. Lance had eventually given up and had resorted to playing a travelling game with Hunk instead.

"Are you animal, mineral of vegetable?" Hunk asked with a sigh.

Lance seemed to ponder for a moment. "I'm thinking...animal..."

"Actual or mythical?"

"Mythical."

"Is it a dragon?"

"Nope."

"Basilisk?"

"Try again."

"Griffin?"

"Nuh-uh." Lance shook his head. "And you're running out of guesses. Ask something to narrow it down."

"Fine." Hunk sighed, obviously not that into the game. "Mammalian, reptilian or avian?"

"Huh?" Lance blinked.

"Does it have fur, scales or feathers?" Hunk clarified. "And that doesn't count as a question."

"Fur."

Pidge tuned them out, focusing instead on their newfound, well, she couldn't really call him a friend. Ally, perhaps? All she really knew about him was that he had no love for the Galra, even though he probably was one. Though, she had a feeling it went beyond their slaughter of his brotherhood.

She glanced back to where he was bringing up the rear of their little group. He'd let his chestnut stallion, Palgan, she'd learned in one of his brief, chattier moments, set his own pace. As the day drew on she noticed he seemed to get more and more unfocused.

The sky, at least what could be seen of it through the canopy, had taken on a distinctive pinkish tint when he slid from Palgan's back and headed off into the trees.

"Hey!" Lance exclaimed as he noticed. "Where are you going?"

The trio exchanged a quick glance before following him. He wasn't moving very fast, in fact he paused, allowing them to catch up, before leading them to a crumbling structure of stone and wood. An abandoned cottage deep in the woods and partially reclaimed by it.

"We'll camp here for the night." He said. There was a slight edge to his voice, an anxiousness that hadn't been there before.

"Don't tell me the big, bad, Mamorite is afraid of the dark?" Lance teased.

"Do you have any idea what kind of monsters roam these woods when the sun goes down?" He countered. "If you want to live long enough to get through this forest you'll listen to what I say."

"I _AM_ a hunter, remember?" Lance growled.

"And what have you hunted?" Keith shot back. "Rabbits? Deer? Have you ever faced a pack of hungry wolves? In the dark? With no way of knowing their numbers or exactly where they all are?"

The colour drained from Lance's face. The Mamorite had a point. Lance had never actually hunted at night. And they were far deeper into the woods than he'd ever been. Not that he'd admit it.

"And there are worse things out there than wolves." Keith's voice softened as he looked away into the trees.

"Uh...I'll rustle us up some dinner before it gets dark." Lance offered. "Rabbits or deer."

"I'll check the perimeter." Keith nodded. "Set some snares so we know if anything comes calling." He turned to Hunk and Pidge. "If you could take care of the animals?"

"Sure." Hunk took the offered reins from him. He ran a gentle finger over the snowy bird's feathers, perched on the horse's saddle, as the bigger man led the pair towards the structure.

"And get some rest." He called after him. "We've still got a long way to go. We'll be leaving at first light."

 

~~~~~~

 

"So..." Lance mused as he tore a mouthful of flesh off the rabbit he'd managed to catch before the light had faded from the sky. "Do you think it's a Galra thing or is he just a jerk?"

"He's not a jerk." Pidge glared at him. "He's..." she frowned, not sure how to finish. He _WAS_ surly, kind of unfriendly, but he wasn't really a jerk. Was he?

"The Blade of Mamora were betrayed and murdered by the people they'd sworn to protect, right?" Hunk asked. "That's gotta give anyone some serious trust issues."

"And we did kind of invite ourselves along on his little one man crusade." Pidge added. "He's probably just used to being on his own."

"Yeah, okay." Lance conceded. "I guess he's just lacking social skills, but..." he frowned. "Where the hell is he, anyway? He was going on about how dangerous the woods are after dark, and he's still out there."

Palgan let out a reverberating snort that drew the trio's attention. For a moment they thought it indicated Keith's return, but when the horse started pawing the ground nervously they knew it was something else.

With a quick, wordless exchange, Hunk tossed an old blanket over the fire to extinguish it before the trio crept up to the low stone wall that made up the front of their overnight accommodation. Using it as cover they each angled themselves up just enough to peek into the clearing in front of it.

A tiny man, he was even shorter than Pidge, stepped from the trees, sniffing the air. His attire and odd hairstyle marked him as Galra. He was flanked on either side by two much larger, regular looking Galra in full battle armour.

"I knew I could smell something." The little one said. "Roast rabbit. He can't be far."

"That tripwire was definitely a Mamorian tactic." One of the others nodded, laying a hand on the sizeable dent on his breastplate.

"Imagine if we're the ones to bring in that filthy little half-breed?" The little one grinned wickedly. "We won't be stuck in pathetic clean-up detail, that's for sure."

Lance crept away from the wall, staying low, fingers inching towards his recently acquired sword.

"What are you doing?" Hunk hissed at him.

"There's only three of them." He whispered, looking back. "Two and a half, really. We can take them."

"That would be an extraordinarily bad idea."

It wasn't a voice any of them recognised.

"What the hell..." Lance began as he turned towards its source. "...looooohhhh...." his tone and expression changing to flirtatious mode mid sentence as he saw the speaker. Hunk and Pidge exchanged a knowing, exasperated look.

Though, they couldn't really blame him. She had to be the most beautiful woman any of them has ever seen. Her hair, short and roughly cropped, appeared to be the colour of the moonlight that offered the only illumination. Her dusky skin making it, and her sapphire eyes, appear even more luminous as she crept from the shadows to join them at the wall.

"The Galra are touched by darkness." She said, her eyes fixed on the armoured trio beyond their hiding place. "They are far more dangerous at night."

"So what do we do?" Hunk asked. "They're gonna find us!"

"They will if you don't shut up!" Pidge growled.

"I wouldn't worry." The newcomer smiled, a smile so entrancing it reduced Lance to a sighing bundle of uselessness. "You have a friend in these woods."

"We do?" Pidge questioned, maybe a little too loudly as three Galra heads turned in their direction.

"What was that about shutting up?" Lance snapped, lunging for the sword. "Now we're gonna have to-"

He was cut off by a deep, rumbling growl.

It was like nothing any of them had ever heard before. Even the Galra stopped in their tracks, turning slowly towards its source. It wasn't a wolf, the sound was too deep, it belonged to a much bigger animal. And the strange, reverberating quality? Maybe the mythical creatures Hunk had been naming earlier weren't so mythical after all.

A pair of luminous eyes ignited in the underbrush as the creature they belonged to emerged from the darkness. It was enormous. It had a broad face surrounded by thick dark hair-like fur and a flat muzzle reminiscent of a cat. Lips curled back to reveal a set of very long, very sharp, dagger-like teeth as it growled again.

As it moved into the clearing, all silent and slinky, it really did look like a cat, if a cat could be the size of a horse. It was sleekly muscled, built for the kill. Its tail was long and sinewy, with an obvious tuft at the end.

"What the hell is that?" Lance breathed as the Galra backed away from its approach.

"Manticore." Hunk gasped.

Its jaws gaped open as it let out a thunderous roar that shook the rafters and showered them with dust.

The sounds that followed the roar would haunt their nightmares for weeks to come.

"Oh, no." The beauty covered her mouth as she rose to her feet. She threw one leg gracefully over the wall and was about to swing the other over when Lance grabbed her arm to stop her.

"What are you doing?" His eyes were wide with fear. Fear for her, fear of the creature. "You can't go out there with that...that...thing!" His eyes flickered past her to where the monster was hunkered down by the fallen Galra.

She covered his hand with her own, smiling reassuringly.

"He'd never hurt me."

She slipped from his grasp and moved towards the creature. It...he, how did she know that thing was a he...raised his head as she approached, glowing golden eyes fixed on her, teeth bared.

"Shhhhh." She held her hands out in front of her in a placating manner. The massive head dipped to one side, making the animal look strangely curious. The jaws closed, the eyes soften. No, the entire creature soften as she reached out to cup his jaw. He let out a low, somehow sorrowful rumble as she placed her forehead against his.

She was whispering to him as she ran her fingers through his thick, dark mane, though she was too far away for any of them to make out what she was saying. Some kind of spell maybe? Was she a witch? Everything about the situation seemed bewitching and surreal.

The creature sank to the ground with a loud thump. The woman wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his fur. They could hear his breathing even out, saw her smile as he curled around her and began to rumble soothingly. He really was just like an oversized cat. The woman didn't make any kind of attempt to move, she just snuggled into his furry body. Soon they were both sleeping peacefully, quite comfortable on the hard, cold ground.

The trio pulled each other into a tight embraced, each more than a little frightened by everything they had just witnessed.

There was no way any of them were getting any sleep tonight.

 

~~~~~~

 

Pidge awoke with a start.

She was still pressed up against Hunk, who was snoring quite loudly into the rafters. Lance was curled up on the other side, drooling quietly onto Hunk's shirt. The arm that was slightly beneath the largest of the three was a little tingly. She flexed her fingers to get the blood flowing, yawning and stretching out the kinks. It was only then that she noticed the blankets dropped over the three of them.

She could hear the crackle of a nearby fire, the wonderful smell of something cooking. Was it mushrooms? She slipped out from under the blanket, tucking it under Hunk as the big man continued to sleep.

"Rough night?"

She just about jumped out of her skin.

Keith was sitting on a fallen log, poking at the fire with a long stick. A generous fry up of venison, some kind of tuber and, yes, mushrooms, threaded alternately on slender skewers, sizzled over the heat. Where the hell had he been all night? They really could have use his help with the Galra and the...

She glanced around the clearing. The creature was gone, as was the woman. The bodies were nowhere in sight, but there was a mound of freshly dug earth. Had he buried them?

"I got you some breakfast." He gestured to the fire with his knife. He speared a piece of meat and offered it to the bird, perched quietly on his shoulder. She stopped preening her snowy feathers to nibble at the morsel.

"Thanks." She said as she sat down, reaching out to take one of his skewers.

She chewed thoughtfully on her food, watching silently as he fed the bird. There was something so sweet about his interactions with the creature. He chuckled slightly as she tugged playfully at his dark hair.

Her eyes widened.

Dark hair...white feathers...

White hair...dark mane...

One missing all night...

One mysteriously appearing only after the sun had set...

Magic and weirdness and nightmarish happenings.

"By all that's holy." She whispered.

"Are you alright?" Keith frowned.

She looked at him, at the bird perched on his shoulder, both staring back at her with strange, almost unreal eyes. His not quite grey, not quite blue, not quite violet but somehow all three at once. The bird's in subtle, graduating shades of blue, from pale aqua to the deepest sapphire.

"How long?" She asked.

"What?" He frowned.

"How long-" her eyes flicked quickly from one to the other "-have you two-" back and forth, back and forth "-been..."

She trailed off. What was it exactly? She was a person of logic. She didn't hold much faith in magic and monsters and that kind of thing. But she couldn't think of any other way to describe it.

"...cursed...?" She finished, her voice uncertain.

Keith let out a nervous half-chuckle which cut off quickly. He looked away and she could tell he was trying to come up with some kind of explanation or denial.

"What makes you think..." he began.

"Oh, come on!" She snapped. "We meet you yesterday, in broad daylight, with a one of a kind white-feathered bird with strange blue eyes that you're a little too protective of. You get really anxious just before sunset then disappear all night, when, coincidently a beautiful silver-haired woman with the same blue eyes appears and hangs out with a clearly very dangerous animal that's not even indigenous to these parts who she very calmly states would never hurt her before curling up together for the night."

He just blinked, obviously stunned, the bird still playing with his hair in a mirror of the woman the previous evening.

Pidge shrugged. "It's not really that hard to figure out."

He looked away, absently stroking the bird's feathers.

"So how long has it been?"

He sighed before looking back at her. His eyes were filled with such pain, sorrow and loss it almost made her want to cry.

"How long is forever?"

She looked away, uncertain of what to say, what to do. Should she say something comforting? Offer him a hug?

She was saved by a sudden outburst from their, until then, slumbering companions. Blankets went flying as Lance sprang away from Hunk, embarrassed to find himself in such a compromising position. For his part Hunk sat up and scratched at the front of his shirt until he found the slobber patch and pulled a disgusted face.

Lance's calmed down somewhat when he noticed Keith.

"Where the hell were you last night?!" He demanded as he stepped over the crumbling wall. "We could have been killed by that monster!"

"You mean the monster that took down the Galra who probably did actually want to kill us?" Hunk queried as he rose to follow, drawn to the fire by the smell of breakfast.

"If it wasn't for that gorgeous woman who calmed it down it probably would have come after us as well." Lance reasoned. "Where is she anyway?" He asked, running a hand through his hair in an effort to make himself look more presentable. "She was so into me."

The bird let out an indignant shriek and puffed out her feathers. Pidge covered her mouth to stifle her laugh, her eyes sliding to look at Keith to see a slight smile curl the corner of his mouth.

"Please." Hunk scoffed around a mouthful of food. "She was more interested in the manticore."

"It wasn't a manticore, Hunk." Pidge sighed. "Manticores aren't real."

"What was it then?" Hunk asked. "It sure looked like a manticore."

"It was a lion." Keith said. They all stopped eating to look at him. "Do you think I was gone _ALL_ night." He gestured to the ground. "And the tracks give it away."

"A lion?" Hunk echoed. "Aren't they from...well...a long way away?"

"Must have escaped Zarkon's menagerie." He shrugged. Pidge looked at him, considering his off-hand comment. It might not have been far from the truth.

"You weren't kidding when you said there were worse things out there than wolves." Hunk looked towards the trees.

"What about the woman?" Lance asked. "Did you see the woman?"

"No." Keith shook his head. "I didn't see the woman."

He stood up suddenly, quickly enough to startle the bird on his shoulder. She spread her wings, shifting her weight to reposition herself.

"Eat up." He said. "That patrol will have been missed by now. They'll be sending others to look for them. We best get moving." He walked towards the ramshackle cottage. "I'll get Palgan ready."


	3. Tavern Troubles

“This is a very bad idea.” Keith grumbled under his breath.

The quartet of unlikely travelling companions had come to a stop when they found that could go no further in the direction they had chosen. The forest had come to a sudden end where the trees had grown up to a hidden cliff. It wasn’t a particularly high precipice, an easy enough climb down for even the smallest among them, though risky for Palgan. Keith could probably find a way down for the horse if he wanted to. _IF_ he did. But he didn't.

Below them they could see a road, broad and clear and obviously well travelled. And the young Blade always steered well clear of such thoroughfares. He had been a wanted man long before he’d shown himself in Garsiwn. Haxus would no doubt have reported to his masters by now, the Galra would be out in force, hunting him down for their prince. The patrol they’d encountered the night before was proof of that. He had avoided several more during the day that the others hadn’t even been aware of.

And he could hear the voices and the laughter, he could smell the food and the ale as easily as they could. He knew the area, he knew the road. He knew of the tavern just around the bend. He had visited it in the past. One of the young ladies who worked there was sweet and sympathetic. Keith had run out of money a long time ago but she would often pass some of the day old bread to him. But now was not the time for a visit. The sun had already touched the horizon, the change would be upon him soon. He could already feel it in his bones.

Of course he wasn’t the only one that was aware of how close they were to civilisation. Lance was all but bouncing up and down on the spot at the prospect of meeting some ladies, Hunk’s eyes had glazed over at the thought of a proper meal.

“What’s so bad about it?” Lance asked. “Some good food, some cold ale, some feminine company and a proper bed for the night? Sounds pretty close to heaven after all this wandering in the woods and sleeping on the ground and run ins with Galra and monsters and mysterious ladies and everything.”

“It’s been one night!” Pidge snapped.

“But proper food…” Hunk sighed dreamily. “No offence.” He looked at Keith and his arced eyebrow. “The venison was great, but…gravy…cream…pudding…”

“Come, my friends. Ignore Sir Downer, here.” Lance draped a companionable arm over Hunk and Pidge’s shoulders. “Let us eat and drink until our bellies are full. And then…” He pointed a finger dramatically to the darkening sky. “There’s wenching to be done!”

“Yeah.” Pidge backed her way out from under Lance’s arm. “I think I'll stay here. Keep Keith company.”

Lance shrugged. “Your choice.” He turned to Hunk. “More for us.”

Pidge watched as the pair made their way down to the road before turning to Keith. He was walking towards Palgan, his shoulders slightly drooped. He hadn't said exactly why visiting the tavern was a bad idea, but it was obvious that he meant it. His concern for the two equally so. He sighed as he gently stroked the bird’s feathers.

“You’re not even going to try to stop them?” She asked.

“Even if I had the time…” He glanced upwards, the sky had grown quite dark. “…they’re adults. They can make their own choices.” He walked around Palgan, putting the horse between them. He unbuckled his sword and lay it gently on the ground. His blade soon followed.

“Yeah.” Pidge agreed. “But it’s pretty clear you-“ She broke off as he began to remove his armour.

“Ah…” Her cheeks flushed and she spun away as he continued to undress. “What are you doing?”

“Do you think my armour magically disappears when I transform?”

“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “I hadn’t thought of that.” She admitted. “So does…” She frowned, turning to address him, catching a brief glimpse of an ugly scar on his now bare right shoulder, filing away her curiosity as to how he got it for later inquiry, as she forgot for a moment what he was doing and quickly turned away again.

“Does your lady have a name?” She asked. “Well, of course she has a name.” She back peddled. “It’d be crazy to think she doesn’t have a name. It’s just, if I'm gonna be spending the evening talking to her and everything, it’d be easier…”

“Allura.”

His voice when he so softly spoke her name gave her chills. So full of love and sorrow, of hope and despair. She turned to look at him, not caring that he was probably naked now. Palgan was providing a perfectly efficient modesty screen anyway. Those same emotions were reflected in his eyes. He held her gaze for a moment before turning to the bird. To Allura, she corrected herself.

“She’ll be needing these.” He said as he lay several piece of clothing across the horse’s back. Pidge lowered her eyes as he touched the bird gently one more time. When she looked back up he was gone.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” She whispered to the trees.

 

~~~~~~

 

Lance strode into the tavern like he was a beloved regular, resting his elbows on the bar as he turned to survey the establishment with a smug smile. Hunk moved more cautiously. There were a lot of large, scary looking people that he didn't really want noticing him. Lance, being Lance, didn’t seem to care about them. He only noticed the young ladies.

“Is there something you would like me to get for you?”

Hunk almost jumped out of his skin. He’d been so busy being wary of the tavern patrons he hadn’t heard the barmaid’s approach.

“My apologies.” The softly accented voice continued. “It was not my intention to startle you.”

Hunk turned to find the speaker smiling at him. She was as tall as he was and solidly built. She wasn’t conventionally beautiful but her face was still very appealing. Her eyes, somewhere between green and gold, seemed to almost glow. Or maybe that was some trickery of her beaming smile. Her hair was mostly hidden by a headscarf, whether that was a requirement of her position as server or a personal preference, he couldn’t tell. A pair of large, hoop earrings framed her face. Overall, it was a face Hunk found he liked looking at and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Ah…yeah…um…” He stumbled over his words as he struggled to find his voice. He was stating, wasn’t he? Yeah, definitely staring. “My friend and I..”

“I fear your companion has become distracted.” She told him. He followed her gaze. Lance had slid along the bar and was now chatting with a pretty young thing with wide blue eyes and long blonde hair.

“Typical.” Hunk muttered.

“Perhaps you would like to sample some of our fare while you await your friend’s return?” She suggested. “I can vouch for the steak and kidney pie. I made it myself.”

“You made it?” He grinned. “Now I gotta try it.” Hunk hadn't though it possible, but her smile grew even wider.

“I’m Hunk.” He said, offering his hand.

“Shay.” She returned.

 

~~~~~~

 

Pidge had started a fire, putting on some of the leftover venison to heat for dinner, before settling down to watch the sunset. Allura had watched her quizzicality through the entire process. Pidge had to wonder just how much the woman she was about to become would remember of what the bird saw. Something else to file away to ask later. Keith and Allura certainly seemed to be aware of each other when in their animal forms, but how much did that extend to the people around them? Keith hadn’t come after them last night but was that because he recognised them or because Allura had stopped him? There was so many questions she wanted to ask them, but, would they want to be asked? She tried to put herself in their place. She’d never been in love, but, to always be together though never able to speak to each other, to hold each other, to even look upon the other’s face. Not to mention all the other things that came with being in love that was denied them. It must be a living nightmare for both of them. But then, a curse wasn’t meant to be rainbows and sunshine.

She had to wonder who had cursed them. Why they had been cursed. What crime could they have possibly committed to have been burdened with such torment? Given his desire to see the prince dead she assumed Lotor had to be involved somehow. He was a notorious ladies man, so she guessed Allura had something to do with it too. Had the prince actually fallen for her and grown vengeful when she’d chosen Keith instead?

Her curious mind wondered so much about their situation. How long had they been under the curse? Did it hurt when they changed? She had learned the bit about the clothes, though. It made so much sense she was surprised she hadn’t thought about that. She might learn more over time just travelling with them, and as much as she wanted to know, she felt that was probably the best way to do so. She didn’t want to pry, didn’t want to add to their sorrows.

As the last sliver of light slipped behind the horizon she heard the bird ruffle her feathers. She heard a rustle of fabric. Then the hiss of metal against metal.

Her eyes widened. She sprang to her feet and spun to face the woman, her eyes drawn briefly to Keith’s blade in her hand. She hadn't gotten a very good look at her the previous evening. It had been dark and they’d all been terrified. But now that she could see her properly she truly was a stunning beauty. Though, it was hard to decide which was more beautiful, her or Keith. She’d probably give Allura a slight edge. She was certainly more exotic. And there was a refined air about her that he lacked, even when she'd was brandishing a knife. But the look in her eyes, so haunted, so distrustful. It was a perfect match to Keith’s.

“It’s alright, Allura.” She said, swallowing hard, holding her hands out in an effort to calm the other woman. “I’m Pidge. A friend of Keith’s.”

Allura cocked her head to one side in an eerie imitation of the bird. Though the suspicion drained from her form as she heard both her name and his.

“Really?” Her voice was skeptical, her expression though, was somehow playful. “Keith doesn't have friends.” She lowered her eyes. “At least not anymore.” Pidge nodded. Given his past, all he’d lost, if she’d been in his place she’d be reluctant to make bonds too.

“You were there last night.” Allura realised. “With two others. The cautious one, and the one who was foolish enough to think he could take on three Galra under the cover of darkness.”

“Yeah.” Pidge confirmed with a smile. If she was going to earn her trust she felt it best to be honest with her, offer her information about herself. “I sort of invited myself along on Keith’s quest. The Galra took my family. My father, my mother, my brother. I’m surprised he let me stay to be honest.”

“Family means a lot to him.” Allura said softly.

“And the others…” She sighed. “They kinda took me in. Decided to look out for me like overprotective big brothers. And I look out for them. There’s little we won’t do for each other. Lance, the foolish one, I think he’s looking to make a name for himself by going on a daring crusade. And Hunk, I'm pretty sure he’s mostly here to make sure Lance survives.”

“If you’re all so protective of each other, where are they now?” Allura questioned.

“They went to the tavern.” Pidge sighed. “Drinking and wrenching.”

“You didn't want to join them?” She asked.

“I’m not a big drinker. And I'm certainly not into wrenching.” She snorted, a slight hint of bitterness in her tone. “Besides, I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

“That’s awfully sweet of you.” Allura said as she sat down beside her. “But I have a feeling that’s not the only reason you declined to accompany them.” She smiled.

Pidge looked at her, confused.

“No one knows better than I the pain of a love that cannot be returned.”

 

~~~~~~

 

Lance laughed loudly waking Hunk from where he was beginning to doze off at something the girl he was currently chatting with had said. She wasn’t the same girl he’d been cozying up to before Hunk’s eyelids had drooped, he noticed. He glanced over to where Shay was cleaning up some pottery goblets, wishing he had his friend’s prowess, or at least confidence.

Shay noticed him looking at her and smiled. Hunk felt his cheeks explode into flames.

“Smooth, Hunk.” He muttered to himself. “Real smooth.”

With a sigh he rose and headed towards his friend. The crowd had thinned considerably as the evening wore on, only a handful of scary looking patrons remained. It was well and truly time for them to head back to camp. He wanted to check on Pidge. Not that he didn't trust Keith around her, he was a Blade of Mamora, a truly honourable man. He didn't trust him to be there for her at all. He’d disappeared entirely last night, setting traps or hunting or something else or other. What if he’d done the same again leaving Pidge all alone with only a horse and a bird for company and protection? Hopefully he could talk her into returning with him to get some proper sleep in a proper bed.

“Lance?” He said in an effort to get the other’s attention. “I think it’s time we-“

“Hunk! Buddy!” Lance said brightly. “Have a seat! Have a drink!” He gestured towards his new lady friend, a beautiful redhead with large, dark eyes. “Meet Florona. She’s come all the way from the coast.” He leaned in close, hiding his mouth behind his hand as he whispered. “I totally think she’s a mermaid. She’s so pretty…”

“Exactly how much have you had to drink?” Hunk frowned.

“Hello, boys.” A voice interrupted before Lance could answer. There was something familiar about it, but Hunk couldn’t quite place it. He looked to his friend, noticing how the colour had drained from his face. Hunk turned slowly to face the speaker. If the voice had been only vaguely familiar, there was no mistaking the face.

It was the Galra Keith had battled back home. What had he called him? Nexus? Flaxus? Haxus! That was it.

“Long way from Garsiwn.”

Hunk shifted into a defensive stance but found himself forced into the seat Lance had suggested he take by a pair of overly large Galra soldiers.

“So where’s your surly friend?” Haxus asked. “About yea high.” He put his hand out at roughly Keith height. “Dressed in black.”

The pair exchanged a nervous glance.

“No idea who you’re talking about.” Lance said, the height of innocent.

“We’re not going to play this game are we?” Haxus snorted as he rolled his eyes. “We know you’re travelling with that filthy little half-breed. He may be good at covering his tracks but you lot aren’t.” He spread his arms to gesture at their surrounding. “I mean, seriously, a tavern? Not exactly low profile. You really should have kept to the woods.” He nodded to the men holding Hunk.

They slammed him hard against the table, twisting his arms to bind him. Hunk would never be sure exactly what caused it, maybe he’d had enough of the Galra pushing people around, maybe it was the fear he could see on Lance’s, or maybe it was because Shay was watching. But something snapped. For the first time in his overly cautious, overly wary, pacifist life, he fought back.

Even without his arms to provide him leverage he used his impressive upper body strength to force himself upright. A quick struggle with the two Galra and he’d ripped his arms free from their grasp. He elbowed one in the stomach, twisted in place and punched the other squarely in the face. Fists up, he turned to face the rest of them.

With a sigh, Haxus stomped down on the side of Hunk’s leg, just below the knee. There was a resounding crack almost lost in the sound of Hunk’s agonised shriek. The highly trained Galra soldier spun, his other foot connecting with the big man’s midsection sending him sailing across the room and into the bar. He impacted with the solid wooden structure hard, his head bouncing off the upper edge. He slid to the ground with a groan.

“NO!” Lance and Shay shouted in unison. The serving girl shot around the bar dropping to her knees beside Hunk’s still form, pulling him into her arms, gently cradling his head. She pulled one hand out slowly to stare at the dark, sticky liquid that coated it.

Lance surged to his feet when he saw his friend’s blood.

“You son of a-“

Haxus drew his sword, pointing it directly into Lance’s face, causing the smaller man to lean back slightly to avoid being skewered by its sharp tip.

“You want to play hero, too?” He arced a brow. “It worked so well for your friend.”

Lance glared daggers at the hateful man but didn’t move.

“Why are you doing this?” Shay asked, tearing her eyes briefly away from Hunk’s pinched face. “They are no threat to you.”

“True.” Haxus admitted with a smirk at the grieving girl. “But you can’t set a trap without bait.”

“He barely knows us.” Lance growled. “What makes you think he’ll trade his freedom for ours?”

Haxus turned back to him, smirk firmly in place.

“You better hope he will.”

He turned his attention to his men. “Take them outside.”

Two hauled Hunk mostly upright, shoving Shay roughly aside to do so. Hunk let out a low groan, biting his lower lip in an effort to keep himself from expressing his real pain for their twisted amusement. His eyes slid towards Lance, glad to see the small amount of relief on the other’s face when he realised his friend was alright, or conscious at the very least.

Lance’s arm was twisted painfully up his back as another Galra pulled him from his seat and shoved him towards the door. He sighed. Keith had been right.

This _HAD_ been a very bad idea.


End file.
